Christopher Biddle

Wolf Change

Corsair of the wood
discard your skin
your pallid, wormlike
Corsair of the wood
exchange your skin
for pelt of dun
and brindle luxury.

A pentagram is burning
in your eyes
and soft, pale twists
of wolfbane
squeeze your heart.
A grinding pain
is writhing in your thighs
the crunch of bones
proclaims the change's start.

Pirate of the flesh
throw back your head
and part your jowls
to sing a lunar song.
The forest paths are dark
the night is long.

Poem Submitted: Monday, August 28, 2006
Poem Edited: Saturday, August 28, 2010

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